


On to You

by Kass



Category: due South
Genre: DS_Flashfiction, Iambic Pentameter, M/M, Shakespeare, ep-related: Burning Down the House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-29
Updated: 2009-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Shakespeare challenge at DS Flashfiction. Fraser responds to the events of "Burning Down the House," in iambic pentameter. \o/!</p>
            </blockquote>





	On to You

Pursuing my father's killers brought me hence:  
I stayed for reasons reason knows nothing of.  
It may be what I felt for Ray was love  
(He never "led me on," in his defense.)  
Too long I tarried North, and now I find  
My partner's looks and manner passing strange.  
I always feared I might wind up deranged  
Given the way my dead speak in my mind  
And no one now will look me in the eye  
To tell me who this "Vecchio" may be.  
It is as though nobody here but me  
Can tell that aught's amiss, askew, awry.  
Full fair found I my Ray's prominent face  
But this Ray's fair of head, and arms, and gait.  
It's true I've never been what you'd call "straight,"  
But rare I'm this struck down by easy grace.  
Am I deceived, or in those laughing eyes  
Might interest lurk, a hint of what might come?  
He flashes me a smile and I'm struck dumb  
By every choice that now before me lies.  
My father's ghost no useful answers gives.  
My deaf half-wolf wants donuts, "Boston Kreme."  
I feel I stumble in some waking dream  
I know not where Ray is, or if he lives,  
Or how this stranger's come to know so well  
The details of our working partnership.  
I watch him sling his holster at his hip  
And wonder, could his hands speak, what they'd tell  
Of history. Who is this man, and why  
This clumsy subterfuge? His walk's not right,  
His nose, his dress: I even checked his bite.  
And yet, perverse, I find I'd like to try  
To glean his story, given he knows mine.  
We seem to work together very well.  
And what the future holds, no man can tell:  
Not even ghosts can cross that shadowed line.  
This Ray's a bafflement, a mystery.  
But duty calls, an arsonist to track:  
I guess I trust this man to watch my back  
Until such time as he'll divulge to me  
His purpose here. Unless, of course, it's true  
I've snapped and nothing's different than before...  
Enough: it's time to work. My friend, the door.  
But think not that I'm fooled. I'm on to you.


End file.
